Selected Work — scepterinterviews

Park Chae Biole

Park Chae Biole is an installation artist who grew up between Paris, France and the Gangwon province in South Korea. She works in painting, sculpture and textiles, challenging expectations of exhibition spaces by creating safe environments for all bodies. This has included using soft flooring, hanging pieces below the expected height, and installing handrails as well as creating easily transportable pieces that allow her to bring her work to people outside of a gallery setting. She founded a collective called Nest with her twin sister Park Chae Dalle and Constance de Raucourt, which focuses on themes of motherhood and home. Most recently, she has been exploring ways of memorializing loss and expressing collective grief.

Biole invited us to her studio for the afternoon with her dog Maya. Lately, Biole has been painting on pockets that she uses to transport her work, making a package an artwork itself, allowing her to express themes of mobility and the economy of space. For our collaboration, she asked us to bring an object representing what one thing we would bring with us if we were to move. Biole shared that she and her sister had asked this at a recent residency. She expressed how important it is just to get people to think about this question, because it makes one realize what is essential to them. We placed our objects in the pocket she had sewn and we painted on it together, blending landscapes we find nostalgic, bringing them all into a collective environment.

Artist’s Website

Maitreya: So, we're hoping that you could start by talking about your artistic journey, when you first started making art and how you got to this point where you're at right now?

Biole: Wow, yeah. Big question. I think it came quite naturally since I was young. I love drawing and I have a twin sister. So together, we used to spend so much time drawing, painting at home. When I was around 15, I realized that that was what I wanted to do. So with my sister, we decided to go to a preparation school to go to Beaux-Arts. I did five years at the Art School of Cergy. I did two years of masters, more in theory in the Université Paris 8. I finished all my studies five years ago. But I was lucky because when my studies at art school finished, me and my sister were both noticed by a gallerist, and so we started working with her almost immediately. She was opening her own gallery, so we were her first artists, and it was a start for us, it was a start for her.

Renée: Can you talk more about your collaboration with your sister? How did creativity play a role in your upbringing and your relationship as sisters? How do you balance collaborating with her and both of your separate artistic journeys now?

PCB: It was a very long journey, actually, because we were homeschooled in Korea. So from the age of 8 to 17, we didn't go to school and so obviously we spent a lot of time together, and we also have very similar tastes and similar values. So our art was also very similar at the beginning, even more than now. And so when we went to art school, we decided that we weren't going to collaborate, because we felt this pressure of people expecting us to work together. Everyone thought that, for example, when we went to school, that we might have taken the exam together or that we went through the interviews together, which wasn't the case, but I think we just needed the distance to really develop our own practices. So for the five years in art school, we collaborated once for the degree show. We needed the time to really grow up. And I think that really helped a lot. I think it was a good decision because we really took the time to double up our practices and now it became much more natural to meet again in a lot of aspects of our work. We are represented in the same gallery together, we also have our collective. So we do work a lot together. It’s really nice now because it feels very natural. Every time we do a duo show or a collective exhibition, we also realize how our works just work. And it doesn't have to have any explanations or justification on why we're showing our work together, because our life paths are similar, and our values also are similar. That's a very natural and nice feeling to have.

MR: It’s so special to have that connection.

PCB: It's very special. It took us some time to realize that it was a very nice thing. We were so busy on building our own identities that we really didn't want to be perceived as one. And so when we were represented by the gallery at first, we were showing a lot of work together as twins, twin artists or twin Korean artists, all these labels. That wasn't easy to navigate, because we all work with our labels, we have to deal with them. And we have quite strong labels that identify us. It's still an ongoing process, something that you have to work with your whole life, I guess. But now I think we're kind of at peace with it, there isn't any conflict or uncomfortable feelings.

MR: We both have sisters who are also artists. We can kind of relate.

RF: My sister is six years older, and I started in textiles and she taught me how to sew when I was really little. A big part of our relationship when I was growing up was through sewing. It was sometimes hard to separate that or separate each other. Then I also ended up going to the same school that she did, she had already graduated, but initially, I was also interested in going into textiles there, but then I was like, oh, I don't want to just follow her path. And then I took a painting class and loved that and that became my path. We still come together over textiles now, and that's still a big part of my practice and what I do, but we had this time apart where we figured out each of our own interests within art. And I think that was really important.

MR: Maybe this brings us to the idea of collaborating on something together while we talk. We both brought our little things that we'd want to move with that you suggested.

PCB: So I made the pocket. We have to paint on it. I can show you my project that I'm doing right now, and it's related to that. So you did see that I work with bamboo blinds? I started painting on bamboo blinds eight years ago, but I started making pockets for the bamboo blinds five years ago, so everything that you see over there in the back, that's all the pockets that I make and I put all the blinds and I transport them in this way. I was thinking that I wanted to work with the idea of packing something and making the package an artwork itself. In my work, I always take into account mobility. For me, it has to be easy to move. So making the package was part of this idea, and also the economy of space, but also money, which is very important when you do artwork. You have to think about sustainability and how you're going to make work that will last for a long time. So it doesn't take too much space in your apartment or in your studio. That's an important part of my work. And I wanted to make something out of it. So recently, I decided to work on these pockets. So I made paintings. I made pockets where I put the paintings inside, and I bring them like this. There are different ways to show this work. You can show it separately or you can show it inside, hidden. You can also link them and show them as triptychs. They all have this linking system with eyelets. Talking about collaboration, I did a residency with my sister in May, and we worked on this textile work that's called bojagi which is a Korean traditional way of assembling pieces. It means a patchwork, and these bojagis are used to wrap things, and it's used when you move. We were imagining what we would bring if we were moving. And since we've actually moved a lot in our lives, it's a constant question that we ask ourselves. It makes you think of the essential things. It's nice to figure out what's important. So what did you guys bring?

MR: I brought this crystal. I took my dad's backpack with me here and I didn't know that he had slid these crystals into it. My dad's a jeweler and crystals are a really big thing for him. I feel like they've become important to me too, and they remind me of my family. There's always crystals and rocks in my house, and I was thinking about when I move around—because I've studied abroad at different times—I'm always bringing a little sentimental piece of home. I was going to bring this rock with me here that I had collected, and then I ended up not bringing it last minute. And then I found this that my dad had put in the backpack. So I kind of felt that this was a symbol of A., always bringing something sentimental that reminds me of my home and my family, but then B., that that's kind of a symbol of my family inserting themselves to stay with me when I'm away. He put this in here, and I thought that was very sweet.

RF: Mine is kind of similar. I brought a drawing of this little token that I used to have, because I lost it a few years ago, unfortunately. But when I was little, my mom gave me this small silver metal heart. I think she first gave it to me when I was pretty young, and her mom got injured, and so she went to go help her mom, and I was really missing her. She gave it to me as, like, I'm still here with you. Something to think of her. I guess I would always give it back to her once she got back. Since then, if I've gone away from home or she's gone away or I'm going through a hard time, she'll give it back to me, and she's also given it to my sister when she's going through hard things. I think a year or two ago, I lost it. And that was really hard for me.

PCB: I think we always want to bring something that's related to our family. That's something that we all have in common.

RF: What would you bring?

PCB: I was thinking about it yesterday. But I have a hard time defining what I want to bring. Obviously you want to bring something that symbolizes your family or people that you love. It's a constant question, you know? I've never really put words on it. Sometimes you have to decide, but today I was thinking maybe I would put some of Maya's hair [in the pocket]. Because she's [been] a big part of my life now for two months. It's obviously the number one thing that I would bring with me if I had to move. In my head, it was more [about] bringing values or keeping values. But it's not something that is physical. And also, for me, the most important part of this work is just questioning. It’s trying to find it, but your answer will always change in your life. So when we did our project, with Dalle, it was interesting because our show was based on this one question, and so all the people that came to see our exhibition were also asking themselves this question. And sometimes they would tell us, like, oh, I was thinking about this. For me, I would bring this particular book with me and they would tell us their stories. Which is actually already so meaningful to suscitate questions. So every time we did a duo show together, we would only ask questions all the time. I guess that's our way of working.

MR: Do you do collaborative stuff with your collective?

PCB: Yes. I've done some collaborations with Dalle and Constance, who is the third member. Constance makes a lot of objects with things that she collected and gathered around her house or in her environment. We have that thing in common in our work, so I guess that's also why it works. It's because we all like making things with our hands. Very manual people. In our collective, we wanted to work around the idea of home and maternity. We've done more physical collaborations in a couple of exhibitions. For example, we made a textile house, like a transparent house, and we hung it in the space and artists could work with it, add things inside or outside. The exhibition was called Shared Garden. This December, we're going to collaborate again for an event that we're preparing at AWARE. It's a space in Montparnasse and they have an archive of women artists. We're going to do a performance lecture, a kind of collaborative operation. And also we're going to make a blanket with a buffet, with food. We collaborate quite often.

MR: What is the role of collaboration to you?

PCB: It's more collective work that means something to me. I mean, it can be collaboration, but I feel like sharing is such a big part of my work in general. Obviously it kind of depends on the form of the collaboration, but being able to share your thoughts and the time with someone else is very important, and in building your work, too. I think there are so many artists that are just working alone and that can be quite isolated. Which I think is fine if that's fine for you. But I think when you're building and growing your work, it's also very important to share it with other people, so you learn from it. So for me, it's just part of doing art. It's natural. And I feel like if I didn't do any collaboration whatsoever and I stayed just in my studio working on things, I would probably be miserable or just go crazy. That'd be sad.

MR: I know that you spent a lot of time in nature growing up. We read about how your father homeschooled you. So we were going to ask if nature is a source of comfort for you, and how it plays a role in your work, and it kind of got me thinking about how we both love nature, too, and have a deep connection to it. So maybe if we all have this nostalgia for childhoods and nature that could play a role in what we're doing right now.

PCB: We can maybe mix landscapes that are meaningful to us. Landscape and nature are a big part of my childhood and my life now. The reason that I paint so many landscapes is also a way of evoking displacement and moving. Because we're constantly moving, and I travel a lot. Every time I travel, I document the journey. And for me, the state of moving is very important, so it's kind of like journaling. When you're a tourist, you take pictures of everything. My process is kind of the same, except that afterwards I paint some of them. For me, it's representative of what I lived through and what I moved through. I think my childhood did actually affect a lot of my work. Growing up, I was living in nature, and I have this attachment to it, and for me, it's natural to be in nature and I love nature. And I think being in Paris—I've been here for over 11 years now—I mean, there are parts of nature, but when you go in the countryside or when you travel and you see you're really in nature, it's a completely different feeling. So I think that's why I'm so attached to documenting them. It's because I don't have it here as much as when I was young. But I also like painting urban landscapes now. That's quite recent, because I always used to paint just raw nature. But I've realized that actually, even in raw nature, there's always human traces. So for example, here, there is this landscape, which is a lake just in front of my parents' house in Korea, and then there's this sign that was kind of falling. I've realized that I actually like it, that there are also human traces because it's part of nature. Now it's more of a mix.

RF: How do you feel living in such an urban place? How often do you get out to the countryside and do you have this need to be there and need to escape? How do you balance the environment that you're in?

PCB: I don't think I necessarily have a rhythm to it. I try to find nature in everything and everywhere I go. I don't feel the urge to leave Paris necessarily, but I go to more green places that I can find, or go to the suburbs in Paris. There are lots of mountains where you can hike, little roads you can go to. So that's kind of the furthest I go. Obviously when I travel, it's more for work or residencies and things like that. So that just comes kind of naturally. It became part of the rhythm of my life because I go quite regularly to residencies. But now I think it's gonna change, since I have Maya. Because when I decided to adopt her, I decided that I won't go to residencies for at least a couple of years, and that I wouldn't go too far. So that kind of restricted my plans and also what I'm going to choose to do. So I think now it's going to be a bit different. I think it's going to develop in other ways, more in my everyday life with her. I've already started painting a lot of Maya, so I don't know, maybe it's going to change.

RF: You work in a variety of materials and formats, like painting and sculpture, and you also use a lot of natural objects. Can you talk about your material choices and how and when you choose to include natural materials?

PCB: My choices are always influenced by the idea of mobility. So obviously they shouldn't be too heavy or too rigid. That's already a constraint. Like, you can't use rocks or metal or something like that, unless they're foldable. When I started working with bamboo blinds, that was part of this reflection of things that I can bring with me easily, and that also takes up space easily, that can communicate easily with architecture. I also integrated a lot of leaves and natural materials in my work and that was also related to traveling. I used to collect all the leaves that I would find and I would mix them with other leaves that come from elsewhere and I would integrate them in my installations. So it was in the same logic of painting landscapes, but evoking them by leaves. It was a bit more discrete. I think I will continue doing that, but for now, I'm more focused on this project. Ecology is also important, so I always try to take into account all of these sustainable questions.

MR: In your exhibition Safe Space, you draw a lot from your childhood to explore feelings of safeness in one's body. And now hearing you talk about Maya, not wanting to travel while you have her, that's, like, keeping her safe, mentally and physically. So what do you view as special from childhood and how does recollecting childhood bring you feelings of safeness?

PCB: In my exhibition, I used this anecdote of when I was young. I made this kind of tent with maquettes [scale models] and little ceramic objects inside that evoked my childhood, so they were very symbolic objects. I made a miniature red fridge, and that was symbolic of my childhood home. I also added a little text from a diary that I wrote when I was young. It was written in Korean and no one could really understand it unless they were Korean. It was written in baby handwriting, and the story was that my mom fell on ice on a very cold day in Korea and she hurt herself. I was saying that I was sad when she fell and that I tried to massage her legs, and that it made me sad. So in the exhibition, I used a flooring that is used in children's playgrounds. So even when you fall, it doesn't really hurt, it helps with the shock. So that was a conceptual choice. I think for me, it's not so much about how my childhood was safe for me, because obviously it makes me feel safe. It's also making spaces safe for other people, because I wanted to make the space feel safe for other people; children, or people that are more fragile, that could fall, older people or disabled people. So that's why I called the exhibition Safe Space and I also wanted to make a safe space that is kind of free, that is safe to talk about these things and how a lot of spaces are not safe. A lot of exhibitions are not safe. So that's what I wanted to question. Because I think a lot of museums and art institutions are not taking into account these things as much as they should.

RF: Related to that question, we were reading an interview that you did on Beaux-Arts’s website and you were talking about how you want to be able to bring works to people. So how are you pushing back against the traditional art world and museum culture where things are not as safe or accessible to everyone? And in your ideal world, how and where would people interact with art?

PCB: It's really not easy to resist this. Obviously I try my best to, when I can, choose the space where I want to show my work, so I can make it more adapted to a lot of different bodies. But it's really not evident, especially in France, because all the buildings are so old. There's so many stairs everywhere and there aren't many facilities or things that help disabled people, and also older people and people with children. Sometimes I have to show my pieces where it's just inaccessible to a lot of people. I think in those moments, it's kind of contradictory to show my work in these kinds of spaces, but, if my work can evoke these questions, it might help people realize that this shouldn't be normal, this shouldn't be the norm. And also the norms of hanging in a certain height, the works, the paintings, in a lot of museums—that shouldn't be the norm. So I try as much as I can to integrate these ideas in my work. I try to transfer them to people and share them with people. Obviously, in the ideal world, I hope that all of these things will change and be open to more people. I do know that it's changing a lot. This year, they had a very big conference with all the art institutions in France and all the art related staff and everyone. They do it every year and each year there's a theme. This year it was about accessibility and how to improve it in French institutions. That was like, oh, I guess they are thinking about these things now. I hope that in the future, they will spend more money on these things, because there's always a budget problem. It's always about money. They say, we don't have enough money to renovate these buildings, we don't have any money to do da, da, da. But I think it should be a priority, because if you can't show the exhibitions to everyone, what's the point? Is it only for able bodies and rich people? I think it's always the question of art in a way, making art more accessible to everyone. I know that a lot of artists take these questions into account. But I think there should be more. As artists, we should think about these things a bit more.

MR: When and how did you start to think about this topic of accessibility and safety?

PCB: I think it came naturally. When I was in school, I wasn't this precise in my ideas. I didn't really know what I wanted to work on, but I was always interested in bodies. I was always asking myself, what is a normal body? And that came from my family, from my mom, who's disabled. It was always natural to see her body. But in Korea, for example, you don't see a lot of different bodies in public spaces. So when I went out with my mom, we always had this reaction of people like, oh, what's wrong with her leg? When you notice these things, since you're young, it makes you question, why, why? Just for you, it's natural. I started working on these ideas in school, and afterwards, it became a bit more general because at first it was really related to my mother's story. So everything was around her life or her experience and also my experience as someone who was with her. I think that changed over time, and I started thinking about more general cases and that's how it came to me. But it was very natural.

MR: Should we try to start painting?

RF: I think it'd be cool to blend them together or kind of distort them together somehow.

PCB: What are the landscapes that you are thinking about? So maybe if there are things in common, we can already blend it?

MR: I grew up across the street from a forest. I have that forest in my head.

RF: I think mountains.

PCB: I was thinking of the sea. So you wanted to blend it, right? Maybe in front of the beach, there can be some forests. And in the horizon, we can have some mountains. So we all have our elements and it kind of makes one imaginary landscape.

MR: In the gallery that Safe Space was exhibited in, they described your landscapes as “invitations for calm escape.”’ And so I was curious, does travel feel like a safe space to you?

PCB: I feel like it's really hard to feel safe, actually, and to find places where you feel safe. Because for me, it's related to home. Having a home where you feel safe is important. I don't think I've found that yet. So I guess the process of traveling is also finding where you can make a safe space. When you travel a lot, and when you move around different houses, I think it's hard to feel that way. I think I'm in the process of finding that it's not easy. But hopefully I will find it. I'm probably going to move in November, and I'm moving my studio and my apartment into a space where I will have both. And I'm going to move with my partner and Maya and so it kind of feels different this time, because I've always moved alone, so it kind of feels like making a home, making a family. We'll see how it goes, but I think it's going to be different, so I'm kind of looking forward to it. And maybe it will change my vision of safe space and home.

RF: You were born in France, right?

PCB: Yeah.

RF: So you came back for school, and why did you decide to stay after for so long?

PCB: I don't know. It was quite natural. I didn't see myself going back to Korea because we were homeschooled, I didn't go to school there. So in a way, I never felt really integrated in the society in Korea, and also their education system and everything is very different from here. It's much more competitive and very much money and success oriented. I just didn't want to go through that. Also as an artist, I think it's very different being there. I think it would be harder for me to make a living there, just because I don't have a network there and also the whole system is different. It was also a choice. I wanted to stay here because I feel more comfortable here.

RF: What does the community here feel like in the art world and how did you find that, and how are you still engaging with it?

PCB: I think it kind of came naturally when I went to art school here. It's very much related to your school peers and even professors that I've met. It's a bit unfair, because I know a lot of artists that come to Paris struggle, because they didn't go to school in Paris and maybe they went to school in Nice or Bordeaux. It's harder for them to integrate in the art world here. I guess I was just lucky in a way, just because I went to school here it made it easier. I think the art world in Paris should open up a bit more for foreigners and also different people that come from other places. I think it's a bit closed for now. It feels very traditional and closed. And that's why I also made my collective, because I didn't want to only stay in that world. Our idea was to make our own projects, and make our own spaces so we don't have to always wait for opportunities or ask for them. Because I think when you graduate, you can feel a bit desperate or blocked in these kinds of situations. And having people around you that have the same ideas or similar values is very important. So I was lucky because I have these friends with me that have the same ideas, that really wanted to share the works altogether. So at first when we made the collective, it was just about making moments with our friends. And then it kind of became big because we started doing these big residencies and stuff, but the core is not that. So we always try to remind ourselves that that's not what we're here for. I think your intentions can be modified, because of life and money and because you have to make a living. So it's important to constantly remind yourself that that's not the most important part, even if it's important, it's not something that you should change because of these realities. But it's not easy, I think.

MR: How did the theme of home and maternity become what brings you three together, and how do you address those themes?

PCB: We went to an artist residency last year and we were with six other artists. We lived with them for eight months in the countryside. It was a very interesting experience. But we actually had a very negative experience in the beginning. When we knew that we were selected for the residency, we were really excited and we had one other woman artist that was part of our group. When we were selected, she told us that she was pregnant and that she was going to have her baby during the residency. So it was very exciting news. But the institution that was organizing this residency didn't want to have her because she was pregnant. They really didn't give us or give her any choice. They were like, either she leaves or we're gonna cancel this residency for all of you. So it was very violent and it was a very difficult situation because we had to make a choice. And finally, she left and we did the residency without her. But that actually really affected us. It was very, very hard. It was very sad. As women artists it's already a question that you ask yourself a lot. How are you going to navigate your motherhood as an artist? Having already an unstable life. There are already a lot of artists and books that talk about being a mother as an artist. We wanted to address these questions through this experience, which really affected us. But it was also the questions that we were already asking ourselves, like, what are we going to do? And reading other artists, how did they manage it? It kind of came naturally. Actually, AWARE, the space where we work, is a safe space for us because they are only women and women artists. So after having this experience with the big institution, going to AWARE was the complete opposite. Suddenly just so friendly, so understanding, and so nice. So it kind of healed us also. We wanted to talk about these questions, and we did it in various ways, because for each event, we invited one woman artist to come collaborate with us. So every time she brought her vision, we worked around it. The first one was more oriented about home. And the second one was this artist that had to leave the residency. We invited her and she has her baby now, who is one year old now. So she brought her baby and we made a space for babies, for parents to come see our exhibition, so they could also bring their very young babies. The third one was more about doing workshops with children.

MR: That is really shocking hearing about the residency wanting to cancel the entire thing.

PCB: It's very shocking, but it's actually quite common. Because this one is also one of the biggest institutions in France. I didn't imagine that it could happen from such a big place, so we didn't expect that at all. But we realized that actually, the art world and the institutions in the art world can be very conservative and very traditional. Because they had this thing of like, we were made by Louis XVI in the 16th century, blah, blah, blah. And they still have this castle with all these white men in costumes and stuff like that. And actually it's very different from what you have as a vision of the art world. It's the contrary. It's like being in a trial with very stuck up people. I hope that will change. But I don't see how it can work for them too, because if they invite young artists to do residencies, I can't see how young artists will accept these kinds of things.

MR: During your residency that you did at Gosung with your sister, you made a project reflecting on acceptance and resistance to the passage of time. So can you talk a bit about this; the project and also your thoughts on having a relationship to time? And how can objects, like your grandmother's hanbok or your parents sesame leaves, which you used in the project, be carriers of meaning?

PCB: At that time we were both going through a very hard time accepting upcoming deaths. For us, it was kind of a way of dealing with time that you can't control, you can't grasp. Time is just going. I wanted to talk about my grandmother that was and still is in the hospital. And she at the time was in a more urgent state. We didn't know if she was going to make it or not. She made it, she's still alive. We were asking ourselves a lot of questions around that. Also, because she was in a kind of inhumane condition, being in that hospital for over two years, not being able to go out at all. I was thinking a lot about this. Dalle was also and still is dealing with her dog, who is also 14 years old. She’s the same age as Maya, but she's a big dog, so she looks much older and she has a hard time walking very well and all of that. So we wanted to talk about these two deaths, these two upcoming deaths that we know are gonna come soon. How do you prepare for that? You try to block in a way. The time that is going, or the wind that is blowing, but you also have to let it go, let it go through. We wanted to talk about these contrasts through the wind. So I made an installation that's about blocking. We did an outside installation and I made something that was very resistant, waterproof with plastic wraps. Dalle made a knitting piece that had large holes, so wind would go through. So it was a metaphor to death and time and wind. Gosung is on the seaside, the east shore, and it's very famous for having a lot of wind. And we were doing [the project] in a port, so we were next to the sea in a kind of abandoned building on the rooftop. There was lots of wind because we were higher up. So it was actually the perfect place to experiment and do this installation. I don't know if I answered your question. What was your question?

MR: Talking about having a relationship to time and the passage of time. I was thinking about this with what you were talking about with this residency in France and how there's almost this resistance to time that they're not being as open to the world today.

PCB: I didn't see that connection, but it's definitely there. I think time is a very important element in my work. I feel like doing this work about the landscapes that I go through is documenting time, in a way. It’s kind of just documenting my life and the time that I live. My way of seeing art and my life as an artist is that I really try to see things in the long-term, which is not easy in this competitive art world because you always kind of get swifted by everything that's happening. It's hard to resist. It's really hard to resist. I try to do it, but sometimes I fail, obviously, but I try to see things in the long term. I try to see my work as a growing, long-term work.

RF: A lot of your installations feel very meditative and like a space for reflection and are talking about death and mobility and access and the body, which are very personal. Everyone has a very personal relationship with that. And of course, it's coming from your lens of what that means to you. So how do you hope visitors interact with your spaces? Do you provide any context? How much of your own personal story do you share?

PCB: I actually don't share a lot vocally or even as a text. I'm quite timid about that. But I've actually realized that for me, it works better. I like to give space for interpretation because my work doesn't look so conceptual, you know? It's just landscapes that you can think [whether they’re] beautiful or not. So I feel like it's already kind of quite general. I think a lot of people can just look at it and say, oh, well, it's a space, it's the sea and that's all, it can just end there, which is fine for me. And obviously, if you want to know more, sometimes I would put text that gives more hints about all my reflections. Sometimes if I'm there in the space, I will explain to them if they're curious about it. But I'm not the kind of person to give all the keys and all the explanations ahead. I think it's a choice. I just feel more comfortable with that. I also like having the reaction from people, because it's very different. As you said, my work is calm and meditative, so a lot of people can just quite easily interact with it. Sometimes they're a bit shocked or taken aback when I tell them all the ideas behind it. Obviously, sometimes it helps them understand. But sometimes I think people prefer not knowing. For now, I'm more into not sharing too much information. I think the work just talks by itself. It depends also on the type of work that I show. Because I know that sometimes people have to have more hints.

MR: Have you ever experienced someone viewing your work and telling you something about it you hadn't thought of?

PCB: Yeah, it happens quite often, actually. And sometimes it actually helps me to understand other aspects of my work. Most of the time, I think the reactions of people are not so different from what you expect. When you do a very uncomfortable, violent or difficult work, you know that people are going to react in that way. And I know that my work doesn’t suscitate that, but sometimes it does. I think some people are very disturbed by my work and then I'm surprised. That wasn't my intention. But I think now I know that everyone feels different things and obviously work can not speak to everyone. So it's part of your work as an artist, understanding these different aspects.

MR: In both your sculptures of walkers, and also your landscape paintings, you’re referencing the body’s movements through space. How do different types and scales of movement and mobility play a role in your work?

PCB: I like to say that there are two different types of mobility in my work. There is the more physical one, something that affects you, your physical body directly. So for example, making the walker or hanging my paintings in different heights or using the bamboo blinds to dictate the way you're walking in the space or what you're seeing. That’s the more direct way of addressing mobility. And then the more poetic and larger way to talk about it is by the landscapes. For me, it's not completely separate. I like to see it as two different things. The walker was very important to me. I made it as part of the book Frida and Guyeme. And it affected a lot of my work, because that was the first piece that I made with wheels. So afterwards, I started making different sculptures with wheels, so I can move them around. If I wanted to, I could bring them to people who cannot come to the exhibition. Making the walker was the start, I started seeing this potential. I've kind of stopped making sculptures, I make less. For obvious reasons, as I said, for taking up space and all of that. So I've started finding other ways to talk about these things. But it's still very important work for me and I think I will probably make more in the future.

MR: I was also curious about your little miniature scenes. And I don't see any of those out. Are you working with those?

PCB: These days, no. I did make this thing on the left, the long one. That's actually part of a sculpture that has miniatures on it on the landscapes. But now I'm taking a pause because I worked a lot with miniatures. That actually came up during COVID, because I was quarantined at home in Paris, and we were supposed to graduate that year 2020 in May. We were supposed to do our degree show and that was cancelled because of the quarantine and COVID. So we didn't know if we would be able to do the degree show. And having worked on the things that you wanted to show for five years, it was very hard to try to imagine how it's going to be. Eventually, they said that we could do it and it was postponed to October. But during that time I was at home and I was trying to figure out what I'm going to do for the degree show because I didn't have access to the workshops and all the machines that I was going to use. I was quite desperate. At the time I was really interested in the idea of constraint in the body, how your body is constrained by your environment, and all these other things. I had so many ideas of the installations that I was going to make. And since I knew that I wasn't going to be able to make it, I started making these maquettes, miniature spaces. And I actually realized that this miniature work was enough by itself. I didn't have to make it in real life. So I started making wooden boxes with miniature spaces inside. I had maybe six or seven of them. COVID helped me develop this idea of mobility and constraint, because for the first time I was in a constrained situation where I can't go out, and I know that a lot of people live that way. So it helped me. That's how the miniature came about, and I started imagining scenarios of bringing my work to people who cannot move or people who cannot come to exhibitions. And I started questioning, but why is it always that way? Why is it that people always have to come to see exhibitions and not the other way around? I came with that logic. Now it's kind of the idea of all of my works, it’s the base. I guess COVID helped me.

MR: You were saying that you have a solo show coming up. What is that going to look like?

PCB: I’m actually quite nervous, because it's my first solo show in Korea.

RF: Congratulations!

PCB: Thank you. But as I told you, I don't have this network in Korea, so it feels challenging to do it there without so much support and people that I know. I like challenges. I've been really interested in talking about the idea of death through the bamboo blinds. Last January, I went to Korea and I met an artisan who makes bamboo blinds in Korea. He's like a fifth generation bamboo blind maker. And he's a national treasure. He's like one of the only people in Korea who still makes it by hand. So I went to meet him and I learned a lot about the tradition and the story of bamboo blinds, because I was initially more interested in the object itself, the multi-functionality, the ambiguity of the object, that I can use it as a wall, that I can bring it with me so easily. On the internet it was hard to learn about the object itself. There isn't much information, especially for Korean bamboo blinds. A lot of them are used more in southeast Asia. It was really interesting meeting him, and I learned that there was a tradition of using bamboo blinds in funerals. I thought that was really interesting. I was very influenced by a book that I read by Han Kang, a Korean author. She got the Nobel Prize this year, so now she's very famous. You can find her book anywhere. What was the name in English? [We Do Not Part] I read it in Korean. That book talks about a genocide in Korea. It's based on the real story of a boy who died during the genocide. It's fiction, but it's based on a true story. It's a very, very good book, but it's very strong, it's kind of hard to read. I was very influenced by that book and inspired. So I wanted to make a kind of funeral ceremony space to talk about these people who died, because it was in the hometown of my dad. So I already knew the story of the genocide and my dad was young, 16 I think, when it happened. So I already knew a lot about it, but reading that book inspired me again. I wanted to talk about that, and then I was also very influenced by what was happening in Gaza. So now my work kind of talks about that. Not grieving, more like making this space for people who died. Memorializing. It's kind of a different element that was added to my work. I think the solo show in Korea is going to be about that. And it's also meaningful because I'm showing it in Korea, where it happened. Whereas when I showed it here, it was in the Cité des Arts in Montmartre, in their garden, which was also very nice. It's a completely different context. But it was already a nice start to be able to show my project there. It was the first time that I was talking about this idea of death and funerals. So I think doing it in Korea is going to be a bit different. It's gonna make it maybe more meaningful or maybe not. I don't know, but it's going to be interesting. So I'm going to show eight bamboo blinds that are smaller than this. And I'm also going to show a lot of pockets. It's going to be an installation.

MR: That is a very moving direction to go and to process that stuff through memorializing.

RF: And especially thinking about how it's still happening and connecting it to current events.

PCB: I mean, it's the reality of what's happening right now. For me connecting these two genocides was kind of unexpected, but in a way, it's just how it is. It's the reality of things, so being able to work on that is quite interesting. I kind of changed a lot over this time because before I used to not be so vocal about politics. I just wasn't vocal about it, about anything. It kind of changed over time and I think if you have the opportunity to be vocal, you have to do it. And also doing it through your art is interesting because I've always been thinking of what I can do as an artist. I feel so powerless. And I think my way of dealing with that was doing this project and finding ways to express it through my art. When I learned about the history of the bamboo blinds, I was very excited. I was like this could be a way of talking about these issues.

RF: I mean, I feel like even your work about mobility and access is kind of political in that way. There aren't [accessible] spaces and you’re advocating for more spaces like this.

PCB: I think I just didn't realize or admit it till now. I mean, up until maybe two, three years ago. I was a bit like, it's more general than that. I think sometimes you just have to admit that at the end, everything is political. And also when you talk about these issues, you cannot deny it.

MR: What has been Paris and France’s treatment of the genocide in Gaza? I know there's been a lot of protests that have been happening here.

PCB: It's been very hard because I know that the majority knows that it's a genocide and has to stop. So they're very active about that. There have been lots of protests about it. For me and for a lot of people, it's quite natural to talk about it. I think there's been more conflict with the French government, that doesn't do much, or that helps Israel by sending arms and stuff like that. I think the biggest problem is more with the government. But I think generally, people know what's happening. That's also probably because I communicate with people who are like that. So when I go to the protests or when I talk with my artist friends, I mean, I don't have any friends who are pro-Israel, so obviously, I'm probably not the best person who really knows what's happening in general. But I know that even in the media it’s quite diverse. I mean, it depends on the media. It really depends on what you see and what you choose to see. The United States looks like a mess. We have a lot of news on what's happening in the US. How is it for you guys? Do you feel the difference since Trump was elected?

RF: I guess so. I mean, people that we’re friends with obviously have the same opinion too and it's just what the government's response has been is opposite to that.

MR: But that being said, I definitely know people who have different opinions.

RF: And even there were some people in our school who were pro-Israel.

PCB: Really?

RF: Yeah. I mean, it wasn't as big a sector, but definitely some there.

PCB: I think the media is a big problem in these things. We have the same problem in Korea with the president that went to prison. There's so much propaganda in the media and it's still a big problem right now. 'Cause in Korea, it's very closed. All the main media are just extreme right. So it's really hard to think in other ways. So I don't even blame people who believe it 'cause, in a way, it just feels like, why would you do that? It's really hard to resist these things. But I guess we're lucky because being an artist and being in the cultural world, there are many more people who are questioning these things. But it's still not easy.

MR: These have been all the questions that we had prepared, but if there's anything else that you want to touch on.

PCB: No, I don't have any ideas right now. I think we've talked about a lot of things.

Artworks

Pockets
NO 1X& NO2, 2020 (photo courtesy of Galerie Anne-Laure Buffard)
Our collaboration
Border artwork left: HANGANG 2019 (photo courtesy of Galerie Anne-Laure Buffard) right: Rose & Lys, 2023 (photo courtesy of artist)

Honorable Mentions

We Do Not Part by Han Kang [book]
Frida Kahlo [artist]